


Merciless Heavens

by Luthienberen



Series: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2018 [5]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (Rathbone films), The Wolf Man (1941)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dark, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: Watson is anxious to reach Larry Talbot, but on his way the people of Talbot Green appear startled when seeing him and do not wish to linger in his presence. Watson can’t think why…





	Merciless Heavens

**Author's Note:**

> Written for July writing prompts. Prompt No. **#6 Double Take. Watson keeps getting odd looks from people and can't figure out why.** Tell or show us why.  
>  _The idea for this is inspired by a longer piece I wish to write which crosses The Wolf Man (1941) – my favourite werewolf film – and the Basil Rathbone series. The prompt wriggled into my head and demanded this be written in the meantime. Sorry Watson and forgive me Holmes?_

Doctor John Watson prepared his Gladstone bag with trepidation even as he glanced constantly through his window, dreading the rise of the moon. After packing iodine he was at last ready. Crossing to the window Watson checked that the street was empty and grimaced when he saw people still milling about. _Must_ they be so active when he required the secrecy of night?

Well, he had no choice. Shutting the window and drawing the curtains, Watson then checked the small room he had taken at the inn. The fire in the grate was a steady one that would provide warmth long into the night. Good, with good fortune he would be back in time to enjoy its benefits.

The desk was clean with only his pen and writing papers laid out – nothing incriminating. His letter to Holmes in case…Watson inhaled sharply…in case anything happened to him was at the Talbot Manor house.

Larry Talbot’s father would surely deliver it if he could. Enough, he was late enough as it was. Larry was out there somewhere; suffering from a disease Watson had deemed mere folklore.

Well, that showed how enlightened science and the modern world were in general!

Switching off the lights, Watson departed.

Yet as he gained the floor of the little inn he could hear the murmur of voices discussing the murder of the grave-digger. Attempting a calm façade Watson strolled past the crowd who looked at him briefly in the eye then blinked and stared.

“Is something the matter my good fellow?”

“No,” said Mr Drake, who helped look after the estates. Yet his face was peculiar as he said it and he hurriedly res-started the conversation.

Shrugging off his anxiety as a natural one considering what he was doing, Watson preceded outside. On the pavement, he nodded at the group of young people who were clearly braving the night streets despite the scares of a wild wolf, seeking fun.

Acting naturally, Watson walked past using the aid of his cane.

One of the young ladies as he passed gasped, which caused Watson to pause, his medical instincts at attention.

“Are you well young lady?”

The blond swallowed and nodded. Her eyes flicked with pity to his collar but there was fright in her gaze when she met his inquisitive stare.

“Oh yes Doctor! I forgot…you served in the last war didn’t you?”

_What an odd question._

“Yes I did my dear, but what does that…?”

“Oh nothing sir!” and with that she turned to her companions who also appeared spooked.

A nauseous feeling started in Watson’s stomach, but maintaining his demeanour he walked on until he was out of sight. Only then did he do his best to hurry. Time was rapidly running out.

Within minutes fortunately he had gained the woods that bordered the small village of Talbot Green. Passing under the dark trees Watson’s nerve strained as he glimpsed the pale gleam in the dark sky. _She_ was rising.

Pushing his cane firmly in the ground Watson hurried on at a fast walk, unable due to his old war wound to run properly. The tree roots seemed set against him as they caught his feet maliciously and once, in his haste he stumbled and fell.

Crying out at the sharp pain, Watson rubbed his ankle, grasped his bag once more and was calculating how to rise when hands gripped him.

Terrified Watson nearly swung his cane when…”It’s me Doctor!”

Glancing around, Watson saw the pale, distraught features of Larry Talbot.

“Thank goodness Mr Talbot. I was delayed by an influenza case and could not make my excuses without seeming suspicious.”

Larry nodded and assisted him up, ensuring he had his cane.

Watson filled the silence, stomach aflutter as he realised the full extent of what he had promised. Thinking back on the villagers Watson spoke his confusion to his new friend.

“They were staring when I departed for some reason.”

Larry actually smiled, small and weak as it was. “Have you seen yourself doctor?”

“I don’t’ understand.”

Larry opened his bag and laughed mirthlessly at its contents.

“I’m sorry old boy, but you asked me to be prepared for every eventuality. It won’t come to pass of course.”

The cursed man simply pinned him with bleak eyes and Watson nodded. They both knew the worst would most likely come.

Larry returned to searching the bag and withdrew a small mirror. He held it up to Watson and Watson could just about see his reflection.

“No wonder they were scared,” Watson breathed faintly.

Larry nodded.

Watson’s eyes were haunted pools, full of a grim implacable purpose and peeping above his collar was the remains of the horrific gash that Watson had been forced to tend to himself. He had gained it only last night but had already forgotten it.

That was not what troubled Watson the most, no it was the fact the wound was healing already, showing as a scar less than forty-eight hours later.

“I am so sorry Doctor Watson.” The anguish and self-disgust in Larry Talbot’s voice was dreadful to hear, his despair vibrating in his bones and touching his soul.

Watson clutched at the larger man and embraced him. “It’s nothing Mr Talbot. The consequences of being a doctor – it was my duty and remains so. I will not abandon you.”

Larry Talbot shook his head, tears falling. “You said nothing.”

“So you would not grieve foolishly. I have time before my wound fully heals, so let us focus on you. Hopefully Maleva will be waiting for us.”

The stalwart lady. who had suffered grievously in her life so far, was yet willing to suffer more in guiding Larry Talbot, just as she had done her son.

Larry Talbot nodded, but as he helped Watson walk said quietly, “I think Mr Holmes will be angrier than you are.”

“Oh, he won’t blame you.” Watson glanced around the wood. Silence, not even the night-creatures dared to come close, sensing what Larry Talbot was and…and what Watson was becoming.

“Oh really Doctor? In all the stories I have read, even in America, it’s clear how protective Mr Holmes is of you.”

Watson was about to reply what nonsense that was when it occurred to him how he could have seen his reflection so clearly.

The moon had risen half-way in the heavens. She had not yet reached her zenith, but soon she would and hell would once more be unleashed. Larry Talbot followed his gaze and all talk stopped.

Instead both men now raced on, Larry dragging Watson through the undergrowth. Fortunately, Watson’s ankle had improved by the time they had reached the grave-yard by looping well around the village so that none saw them. Here no one would suspect or hear anything, for the death of the grave-digger had frightened everyone off after sun-down.

Thus they approached and entered the crypt of the Talbot family to find Maleva waiting. She merely nodded.

Larry Talbot suddenly cried out and collapsed. Watson watched in horror as hair began to sprout all over his face. Fearful, but not cowed, Watson and Maleva managed to push Larry Talbot deeper into the crypt and lock the heavy inner door.

Limping slightly, Watson returned to the main crypt entrance. Before he shut the door he looked into the merciless heavens.

The moon was now full and bright, a huge bloated circle in the heavens that mocked all who wandered beneath her, or at least those who had the misfortune to wander where she governed over Talbot Green.

Hearing a low mournful, but angry howl began to rise from the depths of the house of the dead Watson shut his eyes.

“I am sorry Holmes,” he whispered a few tears falling ere he collected his courage.

Then he closed the crypt door on the bulbous silver-white lady that gleamed brightly in her star studded sea of night and returned to the abode of the dead.


End file.
